Our little secret
by Good old fashioned lover girl
Summary: 1963. When The Beatles are on tour in Germany, John and Paul experience something new there. McLennon slash.


_**A/N This is my first slash fanfiction.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own The Beatles and this never happened. I just own the words I wrote.**_

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><p><strong>JOHN'S POINT OF VIEW.<strong>

Almost ending 1963 and all world is going crazy about us; The Beatles. Fans would always try to get on our sets, cars, and they shout very loud every time they even hear our names. Thousands of people spend their money to buy tickets to see us live. It's a phenomenon, _Beatlemania._

Besides having to tour everywhere, do concerts, assist to meetings and interviews, the four famous lads of Liverpool need some rest every once in a while. So tonight we decided we were going to have a drink at some German club I can't even remember the name. We were having a blast, I can't deny it, but I was feeling a little tipsy.

I decided going back to the hotel was the best thing I could do. I just needed to find Paul, but I didn't have any idea of where the heck he was.

I searched for him everywhere but…Uhh, my head hurt. I didn't find the left handed bassist, but I found the left handed drummer, trying to impress some German girl that couldn't even speak proper English, but well, we all know how charming Ritchie can be.

The drummer smiled. "Oh hello Johnny, are you looking for something?"

"Paul. Have you seen him?"

"Last time I saw him he told me he was looking for more whiskey."

"And when was that?"

"About… Five minutes ago?"

I left Ringo alone with the bird and jogged where the bottles were, tripping with almost everything, and just right there I found Paul filling his cup with more alcohol.

"Hey Paul. Let's go back to the hotel." I grabbed his arm and walked away.

"Why?" he stopped me. "Night is young and so am I."

"But I'm feeling tipsy and my head hurts." I explained. "I need a quiet place."

He raised an eyebrow, "Why does that involve me?"

"Because you are my best friend and you're going to accompany me. Besides, the man standing outside the hotel kind of freaks me out…"

Paul sighed and rolled his eyes. "All right, let's go… I already owe you one."

I was so tipsy that I couldn't even walk without tripping with everything, and Paul was drunk as well, so we walked and crossed the street to get to the hotel with each other arms on our shoulders.

Soon we arrived to the suite the four of us were sharing; it was huge and had everything we needed.

I jumped to the nearest bed in the room. "This is awesome, Paul! Ah, being rockstars is the same thing as being in heaven, right?"

"Of course! Being part of The Beatles is the best thing that has happened to me."

"Correction," I cleared my throat. "Meeting me is the best thing that has happened to you."

He laughed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, I was expecting some comment like that from your part, Mr. Cocky."

"And the best day of your life was July 6, 1957."

He giggled cutely and sat by my side. "That's the day we met."

I nodded, "Woolton's festival in Liverpool."

"That was _your _best day. Meeting me changed your life, Mr."

I smiled and ruffled his hair. "I have never denied that."

I took away my shoes, tie, jacket, and lay down in the bed we were sitting on. "Come here, Macca. Let's just lie down and talk about life."

Paul only got rid of his shoes, and I complained. "No, no, no. You have to get rid of all the tightening stuff and just relax." I took his tie and jacket out and he finally lay down beside me.

I faced him and chuckled. "Remember when we used to do this when we were younger?"

"Oh, yeah… Well _you were just seventeen, you know what I mean_…" He sang jokingly.

"_And the way I looked was way beyond compare…"_

"_So how could you dance with another? Since you saw me standing there…"_

"_Well you looked at me, and I could see_…"

"_That before too long, you fell in love with me…"_

I laughed playfully. "Oh yes, you're right."

"What are you saying?" Paul confusedly asked.

"Nothing." I said, trying to sound indifferent.

"Nothing?"

I stared at his beautiful brown eyes and grinned. "I'm sure you already know this, but I love you, Macca."

"Aww, you say such cute things when you're drunk."

"No, I'm serious. I love you more than I love smoking weed."

We both burst out laughing.

"Heck, you know I love you more than I love Cynthia."

He shrugged. "I know."

This time I got lost in his eyes and confessed: "I even love you more than I love being a star."

"Stop doing that!" Paul smashed a pillow in my face.

"Doing what?" I naively asked.

"You know what you're doing!" Paul laughed and gave me another punch in the head with the pillow.

"Ouch! That hurts, you know?" I giggled and returned the punch with the same pillow.

Paul took another pillow. "Only if you stop doing what you're doing!"

I smashed the pillow in his head again. "What am I doing?"

"You know!... You're being flirty… and…you're looking at me with those eyes… Just stop!"

I just grinned, caressed his hair, bit my lower lip, and asked like an innocent clueless boy: "What eyes?"

"See? You're doing it again! You shouldn't drink anymore, you know?"

I winked, "My eyes are so irresistible, right?"

"Well, actually… ye…NO! WHAT THE HECK AM I DOING?"

"There, you said it! You find _me _irresistible."

"No. I actually find that you're very drunk and I better leave to start preparing you a Bloody Mary." He almost got out of the bed, but I couldn't let him leave. Besides, where the bloody hell was he going to prepare a Bloody Mary?

I grabbed his hand and whispered, "I really appreciate your concern about me, but I'm 23, you know? I can take care of myself… Well, I actually don't, but… How can I say this? Oh hell, forget it…" And as I finished the phrase I held him tight in a position where we were too close from each other, caressed his cheeks, gazed him tenderly and kissed his soft lips. I didn't know what I was thinking, and I'm sure that he wasn't thinking either, because he returned the kiss and grabbed both of my hands. The kiss' intensity began to grow as we explored each other mouths eagerly. It was way different from any other girl I have had kissed, and I could have swore that Paul's lips are softer than any other bird's, and that kissing him made me feel better than any other girl could ever make me feel.

After a few seconds, we were lying on that hotel's bed again, when suddenly Paul fell apart and stared down. None of us had the guts to talk or say something at that moment. I just got closer to him and played with his hair making little curls with my fingers, and he ended up falling asleep with his head in my shoulder, and I fell asleep too.

When I woke up, Ringo and George weren't in the room; just the bassist and me. I observed him and smiled thinking how adorable he looks when he's asleep; my best friend is extremely handsome. I took my time to admire his closed eyes with those long perfect eyelashes; his beautiful nose; those sexy, soft, pink lips; his smooth dark brown hair…

While I was analyzing him, he woke up yawning. We stayed quietly stealing some glances from one another for some minutes. Before too long we realised that we were _too_ close from each other, and that we only had our boxers on. He eyed me kind of worried and broke the silence. "What happened yesterday?"

"I don't know. I guess I was too drunk to remember…" I lied.

"Yeah… Me too…"

We kept quiet again for another few minutes, and this time it was me who broke the silence. "You know what? We both know exactly what happened yesterday."

"It was a mistake." He sighed. "We were too drunk…"

"Well, I wasn't _that _drunk. And I'm sure you weren't, either."

"Look, what we did was wrong, and I think all best friends have tried that at least once. AND most important of all, you're married."

"No one can know about this." I grinned. "It will be our little secret."

"Promise!" We both laughed and shared a friendly hug.

We changed clothes and headed to the lobby in the search of George and Ringo. It was easy to find them. We were really nervous and were hoping that they didn't find out what happened.

Ringo greeted, "Hey pals! Last night George and I looked for you two all around the bar and then like three hours later we figured out you were gone. We were too drunk to remember where the bloody hell the key of the hotel room was, and then after hours of thinking we remembered that you two _never_ gave us the key, so we could never enter the room. We started knocking the door like crazy, but I guess you two were sleeping because you never opened the door. So we had to get another room… I hope you didn't miss us so much."

"Oh, don't worry, my friend." I smirked. "Paul and I were just all right."


End file.
